Page 23 of Wallflower Gone Wild
“Enter,” her father said.
Penny walked into the room, her green eyes wide, fingers playing with her blonde hair.
“What is it?” her mother insisted in a harsh tone.
“Mr. Meriweather is here to see the earl.”
Her father turned striding toward the door. “I will speak with him alone. I expect you down in half an hour Letty.”
“Of course.”
Letty waited until her mother followed and then rushed to her wardrobe, pulling out the red gown.
“Help me dress, quickly.”
Mac stood in the elaborate entryway of the Earl of Pinerose’s townhouse, shuffling his weight from side to side as he peered down at the marble floors. His empty stomach churned with nerves as he stood between the two lifelike stone statues of Lord and Lady Pinerose.
Dear God, this was wealth like he never imagined.
What did he possibly have to offer her? If she would forgive him, the most he could offer her was a small apartment over a print shop. That wasn’t a life for a lady like Letty.
The short, stout butler returned. “The earl will see you in his office, sir.”
Mac followed the butler down the long hallway, taking in the many paintings of Letty and her family throughout the years. Each likeness of her brought a pang to his chest.
Remembering the utter devastation on her face the night before broke Mac in two. If only he’d had another moment before they were interrupted by Miss Hayward and Oakfield, then he would’ve confessed everything.
The butler opened a large wooden door, allowing Mac to walk in to find Pinerose standing at the sideboard, pouring two drinks.
The study was larger than Mac’s apartment, filled with more paintings of Letty and Lady Pinerose. It was clear the earl loved his wife and daughter very much. It was odd that there were no portraits of Cedemoor or Miss Hayward.
Pinerose handed Mac a glass before taking a seat at the large oakwood desk. “Why are you here?”
It was strange to see the cold look on Pinerose’s face. Usually, the earl had a happy disposition, but that was not the case as he stared at Mac like the other man had the plague.
His gaze swept over Mac’s unkempt form. Mac was aware that he looked awful. He hadn’t slept at all the previous night, and he’d been barely able to work at all. All he could think about was Letty and begging her for forgiveness.
Taking a large gulp of his brandy, he tried to find the courage that he needed to face both Pinerose and Letty. “I would like to apologize for my behavior at Vauxhall Gardens.”
“Which part would you like to apologize for?” the earl asked, leaning forward on his desk. “The part where you dishonored my daughter? Or the part where you took payment for it from my son?” Pinerose raised a white bushy eyebrow at Mac, waiting on his answer.
“Everything.” Mac swallowed, running a hand down his weary face. He needed sleep, but most importantly he needed Letty. “I should’ve approached you and informed you about my feelings for Lady Leticia as well as Cedemoor’s vendetta against her.”
“Yes, you should have. Why didn’t you?” The earl rose, walking to stand in front of Mac, his long form leaning against the edge of his desk.
“I’ve always believed that the one thing I wanted most in this world was my print shop and to fight for justice.” He looked up at the older man, noticing his similarities to his daughter. “I let it consume me, so much that I agreed before I even met Letty.” The nickname slipped past his lips, and Pinerose’s eyes widen slightly. “The moment I met her, everything in me changed, and I don’t care if I lose it all. I just want one more chance to be with the woman I love more than my very breath.”
“How do I know that you’re telling the truth now?” Pinerose placed his glass on his desk, his mouth in a firm thin line.
Mac sipped his own brandy, finishing the glass. He stood, not liking the other man’s dominant position over him. “If Lady Leticia forgives me and agrees to be my wife, I want you to add a clause in the marriage contract that I cannot touch her inheritance or dowry.”
“You’d do that for her?” he challenged Mac with raised eyebrows, his fingers grabbing at his chin.
Mac released a ragged breath, trying to hide the pitiful sob that escaped his lips. “Y-yes, I’ll do anything to prove to her that I’m sorry and that I love her.” His body trembled with the weight of his grief. “I-I’ll always love her,” he stuttered, his shoulders sagging in defeat.
A thin withered hand gripped Mac’s shoulder. “I can see you really care for my daughter, Meriweather. You’re not the first man who did something foolish all in the name of love, and I dare say you won’t be the last.”
The study door opened with a crash.